


The Wild Woods Await

by GothySexBang



Series: AH Creatures!verse [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Backstory, Forced Immortality, Gen, Minor Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Creatures AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9951317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothySexBang/pseuds/GothySexBang
Summary: Ryan liked to think that he had spent his life well, however some of the other hunters disagreed with his methods.OrHow Ryan became immortal, entirely against his will.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of uploading the next chapter of A Life Worth Living, I started writing up Ryan's backstory, I figured I'd put this out now since it's only going to be two or three chapters. So I'm going to upload this one week and ALWL the next until they're both finished, should be about the same time. 
> 
> Anyway, Ryan doesn't have a fun time in this, if you think you'd have any problems with anything which could turn up in this I'll write some more detailed warnings in the notes at the end, just head on down there and have a look-see.
> 
> Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this, I had way too much fun writing creepy villain characters so I'm planning on incorporating something similar into the next part of the series.

Ryan scuffed his feet as he made his way through the forest, irritated at himself for not having made any progress yet. He’d been trying to follow the trail of whatever it was terrorising the nearby town all day and had been finding next to nothing. So now he was stomping his way back to the cabin to inform his father that he’d raised a failure of a hunter.

At least he’d managed to make it back to town before the market closed, hopefully his father would appreciate the cider he’d brought home.

The walk home felt longer than usual, the long day of trekking through the forest catching up with him as his limbs weighed heavy in the rapidly retreating light. It was almost pitch black (and Ryan was looking forward to lying down for as long as he could) when the cabin finally came into view, the soft light from inside spilling out into the clearing through the open door.

Ryan’s free hand darted to the knife on his hip at the sight of the door wide open; his father was generally not an unkind man, but he was also the most paranoid and inhospitable person Ryan knew when it came to strangers. Just the idea of his elderly father inviting someone in was almost laughable.

As Ryan approached he considered it could possibly be the original owner of the cabin, a man they had not seen in almost twenty years, and was prepared to pull his blow should he need to. Not that he thought he could take down the vampire, from what he’d seen as a child the man was much stronger and faster than Ryan himself could ever hope to be.

His aches seemed to disappear as he made his way towards the cabin door, footsteps careful as he walked, knife in hand. As he reached the entrance he could clearly hear voices whispering to each other, neither sounded like his father and he tensed in preparation to jump.

Arms grabbed him from behind, hooking under his own arms and immobilising his upper body. The knife and bottle of cider he’d still been clutching fell to the ground with a clatter and the voices inside stopped suddenly.

Whoever had grabbed him kicked him lightly in the back of the legs, forcing him to take the few steps which would put him firmly inside the cabin. Ryan attempted to kick back at the large man who held him, but he simply tossed him to the ground with more force than necessary, stunning him for a moment as his head hit the floor.

Once his vision cleared, Ryan discreetly glanced around the room. His eyes were dragged to the two men who stood over a figure which must have been his father, a sharp stab of anger hitting him in the chest.

“Get away from him! Who are you?!” He struggled to his knees, only to have a heavy hand press against his shoulder, preventing him from getting fully to his feet.

“Oh, we’re like you, an old hunting family.” The oldest man looked up, Ryan estimated he was probably in his mid-forties, and now that he could see the two properly they seemed to be related. “But we don’t appreciate the way you and your father have been operating.”

The man behind Ryan pressed down harder and Ryan had to fight not to crumple to the ground, with his focus on staying upright he didn’t notice as the older man made his way to his side. He crouched beside Ryan, motioning for the other man to release him, “The Haywoods have been well established for a long time, you know? And I think that really, it’s our duty to your predecessors to ensure you know the error of your ways.” Even without looking at him, Ryan knew he was smiling smugly.

“And what exactly have we done which is upsetting our predecessors?” Ryan ground out, eyes locked on his father’s slumped body for any signs of life.

“Well, we’ve been hearing tales that you haven’t been working at, let’s say ‘full efficiency’.” He leant closer, close enough that Ryan could smell his sour breath hitting his face and had to control himself not to recoil. “You’ve been letting some of the beasts slip through your net, haven’t you?”

“We’ve been controlling those creatures which are a direct threat to humans.” Ryan answered stubbornly, refusing to turn to look at the man. “We do not hunt innocents.”

The fist caught him by surprise, sending him sprawling across the floor with a grunt.

“There are no innocents when it comes to _monsters_ , boy.” The man sniffed as he stared down at him, Ryan finally meeting his eyes with a blazing glare. “Hm, you look like a man, and yet you talk and act like an innocent child. Have you not watched one of those creatures tear a man limb from limb? Have you not seen them drain a child of its blood and leave it for its parents to find in the morning? Don’t you know the horrors that we fight every day, the horrors which you _are letting live_?!”

Ryan shuffled back, away from the looming pair and the man who still stood over his father, pressing himself against the wall and pulling his feet underneath him. The huge man who he presumed had been standing behind him moved to stop him, but the older man held a hand before him. “Allow him a fighting chance, perhaps he can prove himself.” He sounded unconvinced.

“Why are you here? Why now?” Ryan cursed the slight tremble in his voice.

“Your father has retired, yes? Now that he is no longer there to control the hunts we were hoping you would change your methods. But if anything you seem even softer than your father.” The man’s voice was hard now, unyielding. “We thought that if we ‘spoke’ to you now you may still be able to change your ways. So, what do you say? Will you?”

“Will I what?!” Ryan spat, eyes flaring.

“Will you leave your father? Will you join our hunting unit? Will you **do your job**?” The man had moved closer as he spoke, each word thundering in Ryan’s head, his mind rejecting the very motion.

“Do you have an answer for us?” The man was smug, confident, he knew they had Ryan outnumbered, that no matter which way this went they would be the winners of this particular meeting.

Ryan spat in his face and took the punch with a grin.

From there it was a rain of blows, punches and kicks left him feeling broken apart as he attempted to protect his head as best he could. At some point one of the men pulled his leg out straight, only to slam their foot down on the front of his knee. The scream which was pulled from him tore at his own ears and he was left raggedly panting with tears streaming down his face and barely conscious.

The three men backed away and Ryan finally felt like he could draw a breath. His vision was blurring as he stared into the distance, fighting just to stay awake.

He could hear voices in the distance but they were muffled and Ryan couldn’t make out what they were saying. So when a face dropped into his vision he couldn’t help but jump, pulling away with a soft groan.

“You’re not looking too good, kid. Luckily for you, we’ve got something that’ll help with that.” Ryan watched as a blurry hand waved at one of the other men, eyes glazed as a small box was handed to the older man. “Now, we need to get you up for this, wouldn’t want you to choke and hurt yourself, would we.” For some reason anger flared in Ryan’s mind, but he couldn’t find the words to explain so he let it go. Instead he simply allowed himself to be manoeuvred into a seated position, arms automatically wrapping around his abdomen as pain shot through it.

“Ah, there we go. Now we were going to give this to your father, but I don’t think he would survive the transition, so it’s your lucky day.” The grinning face scared him and he made his best attempt to back away, finding only a solid wall behind him. “Oh, don’t struggle, this is a gift really. We’re making you like those things you love so much, and you get to spend as much time as you want with them.”

Ryan just stared back, eyes wide with panic and breathing harsh as he watched the man open the box and peer in with a grin. “Now, open up.”

Ryan clenched his jaw shut, despite the worrying grinding noise it caused, unsure what was happening but completely convinced that he should not do what this man wanted him to do.

The man glanced up, eyes dark with suppressed anger, “Well if you’re going to be awkward then we’ll just have to find a way to force you. Tim, lad, you know what to do.”

Ryan watched with panicked eyes as the smallest man made his way to the slumped figure on the other side of the cabin, drawing a long knife as he went. The blade glinted evilly as he crouched beside Ryan’s father, dragging the old man up by the hair and pressing the knife against his throat.

“How about this? You eat what I give you, or Tim slits your father’s throat?” The words were said casually, almost like a throwaway comment about the weather, and Ryan shivered. He didn’t have a choice.

He nodded slowly, opening his mouth with a wince and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for whatever his fate decided.

Nothing came, and he cracked his eyes open again.

“Ah, there you are, we didn’t want to do anything without you seeing it.” He held a cube of what Ryan assumed was meat up before him, the box discarded beside him. The meat was a strange pale pink, and shimmered vaguely in the dim light, it was like nothing Ryan had seen before. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Do you know what this is?”

Ryan shrugged, still tense where he shivered against the wall.

“It’s mermaid flesh, rare and expensive. Anyone who harvests it is cursed for life so very few people will take the risk.” He turned the cube slowly, admiring the sheen. “But there will always be someone desperate enough, I suppose.” He looked back at Ryan, his grin back in place. “Now, open up, we wouldn’t want to waste it.”

Ryan’s mouth opened automatically, he could still see the knife glinting against his unconscious father’s throat, but his head pressed back until it was flush against the wall. The meat slipped passed his lips and the man pressed a gentle hand to his chin to close his mouth.

“Now chew, and swallow, and we’re done here.”

Ryan had no idea what the meat tasted like, it could have been the most delicious thing in the world and it would have still felt like ash in his mouth. He chewed until he couldn’t put it off any longer, and then swallowed with tears in his eyes.

“There, now that wasn’t too hard, was it?” The man patted his shoulder in mock support. Ryan stared up at him in disgust, stomach beginning to cramp as he watched him move back towards the large man who had grabbed him initially.

“Tim, finish it.”

Ryan tried to stand at the words, but he hit the ground hard as his legs gave out beneath him and was left watching in horror as the glinting knife was stained with red, blood spurting as his father’s body was dropped to the floor like he was nothing. Ryan couldn’t move, just stare at the blood seeping into the wood as the three men gathered by the door.

The oldest turned back to him. “Enjoy your life, it’ll be a long one.”

The slamming of the door only amplified the silence which followed after it, Ryan barely able to lift his head as his stomach cramped as though he’d just downed a bottle of acid. All he could do was lie in agony as the fire spread through his body, burning him away physically as his mind refused to catch up to the events of the last five minutes.

His vision was edged with grey, body trembling when the pain finally began to subside. He had no idea how long he had been writhing on the floor for but the light which peeked through the windows made him suspect it was already morning.

It took far too much effort to manage to get his arms beneath him, pushing up and away from the ground in the hopes of getting to some form of upright. Instead, stabbing pains through his leg and abdomen had him tumbling back to the floor, tears springing to his eyes at his own helplessness.

He couldn’t move, he had no hope of rescue, no family or friends who would wonder where he was, and if he had understood correctly, he had no hope of a merciful end.

Instead he lay still, eyes clenched closed against the sight of his father’s body, and waited until strength returned to him.

 

\-------------------

 

At some point he must have fallen into a restless sleep, because Ryan awoke to the sound of birdsong and the sight of sunlight mocking him from outside the window. For a moment he had to remind himself to breathe, the aches and pains which plagued his body catching him by surprise.

Eventually he mustered the strength to drag himself across the room, managing to manoeuvre himself up and onto his bed, sighing in relief as something softer than the hardwood flooring pressed against his battered body. And then he lay there, body weak and damaged as he waited for some sign that he could stand, that he had even the slightest chance of being able to do something about his father’s body and the threat of the other hunters’ possible return.

Time seemed to slip past him easily, leaving him curled in a ball of pain and sorrow in the face of his stretching future. It could have been days before he managed to stand and achieve something, although every step was torture on his shattered knee. His breathing was reedy and weak as he moved towards his father, shielding his face against the early rot which had already set in. Any signs of hunger which had been clawing at him disappeared at the mess which was his father’s body.

He had obviously been beaten, although not as viciously as Ryan himself, and the slit across his throat was deep and gaping, red-brown blood dried flaky around the cut skin. Ryan set himself to work, first binding his leg as best he could before downing some of the concoction his father had sworn by for pain relief, it left his mind fuzzy but the numbness which washed over him was more than welcome.

Carefully, he grasped his father beneath the arms, careful to keep his face turned away from the body, and began the arduous work of dragging him outside. Even with the pain-reliever it took him much longer than it normally would have, every step pulling at his insides like a hook in meat. By the time he managed to manoeuvre the body outside he was dripping with sweat and panting with the effort.

Even once the body was outside his work wasn’t done. He set to work with his father’s old shovel, desperately grateful for the soft earth of late spring as his body screamed at him to stop.

He worked late into the night, taking breaks on his back panting up at the rapidly darkening sky, but eventually he had a ragged-looking grave dug to the side of the cabin, sheltered by an overhanging tree. It was under the cover of darkness that he dragged the body towards the grave, eyes watering as he attempted to lower him into the grave gently and failed. It slumped in ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom of the crude hole.

Ryan stared down at the body angrily, brow furrowed; he would jump in to properly position it but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to climb back out again. Instead he settled for beginning to fill it in clumsily, more scraping the dirt back into the hole than actually lifting it.

By the time he was done he was wheezing wetly, eyes streaming and gasping in pain. He somehow managed to hobble back to the cabin, drink half a bottle of pain-reliever and fall into a blessedly nightmare-free sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Ryan is attacked from behind, he is beaten in his own home. His father's life is held at ransom to force him to eat something which will make him immortal. He agrees but his father's throat is still slit before him. He's left to bury his father whilst heavily injured and mourning. 
> 
> Fun times \0/ If you enjoyed let me know, I love hearing from you guys! Also, this isn't edited to the standard I normally would so if you find any terrible errors please feel free to shout at me.


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